


DIRTY BOYS

by Queenoftheuniverse



Series: PEEP SHOW [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, M/M/M, Threesome, dirty kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:19:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/pseuds/Queenoftheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Greg finally get their collective hands on Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DIRTY BOYS

**Author's Note:**

> The formatting on my iPad is mean so the capitals are...well, I won't spoil it for you but they are dialogue.

DIRTY BOYS

Sherlock looked as gorgeous as ever in his charcoal black suit and tight white shirt, undone a few more buttons than necessary. His hair was a riot of curls and his feet quite bare. His eyes were wide, focused on the twin smirks John and Greg were giving him from the door to his room. They had both herded him in there not a minute ago. John had closed the door with a snick and Greg had locked it with a click. Now two pairs of eyes looked at him as he were a rabbit and they were cheetahs.

Sherlock was ready for this, so ready! In fact, after being caught after the act, as it were, he was bordering on desperate for this. Hence the clothes, the hair, the lack of shoes...and pants.

What the two potential hunters did not know that, inside Sherlocks ear, no bigger than a blister, was a device that Mycroft could communicate with him. Cutting edge. Not even the double-0's had it. 

Yet.

"Brother mine...wear it tonight..I have needs..." Mycroft had told him as he affixed it inside Sherlocks ear.

Sherlock had said yes, of course, not once making fun. He had the very same needs but was, of course, much freer to enact on them. Sherlocks room, naturally, had several camera bugs in it for Mycroft to get sight AND sound tonight.

"Doesn't he look delectable Greg?" John said, absently running his hand over the front of Lestrade's shirt. Greg took the blonds hand in his and directed it southward, slowly. Neither Greg nor John took their eyes off Sherlock while this was happening.

"I could mark that neck John. I could make it bruise." Greg said, and Sherlock's eyes widened further. In his ear he heard what at first he thought was an instruction, but a second later he realised was a groan. In a split second he deduced his own brother was lusty for Greg, DI at NSY, and now he understood why Mycroft was willing to use this new tek just to be here tonight in some capacity.

"I'd like that...." Sherlock said, voice low, almost a whisper.

John was now happily letting Greg use his hand over the front of his jeans, rubbing at his hardening cock. Greg even stepped his legs apart a little, to allow John better access.

Johns other hand went up to Greg's neck and caressed the hair there. He moved in, and, Sherlock noted, rubbed himself on Greg's hip, obviously getting hard too. Sherlock decided that was hot as hell and licked his lips.

Both of them didn't stop staring at Sherlock while this mutual rubbing went on.

"TOUCH THEM BROTHER MINE. ONE OF THEM...PLEASE!"

Sherlock grunted, but before he could do anything, John caught Greg up in a heated kiss and Sherlock was quite distracted. Johns lips were sometimes all Sherlock could think about and now, seeing them in action, making filthy love to Greg's mouth, made Sherlocks breath catch. Judging by the sound in his ear, it made Mycroft's do so too.

"Christ..." Sherlock sighed, making John break away from Greg's mouth roughly and stare in a predatory way at Sherlock.

"GOOD GOD...." Mycroft sighed and there was intriguing rustling in Sherlocks ear, reminiscent of trousers being interfered with.

Suddenly the ex-army captain took two steps to Sherlock, twisted one spindly arm up behind the detective in a half Nelson, rammed his other hand deep into the curls at the back of Sherlocks head, and took his mouth roughly. All Sherlock could do was moan, flutter his eyes closed, and submit.

"Jesus John!" Greg choked from over the door, slamming himself back and palming himself madly at the front of his jeans. Seeing Sherlock bent to John's will like this was amazing and filthy and ???

Words failed him.

John snapped his mouth and hands off Sherlock long enough to let up on the mans' arm and look back at Greg.

"You take the top Greg, I'll get his legs."

Greg obeyed at once, swapping with John and lifting Sherlocks torso. Together, he and John threw the lanky detective onto his own bed, hair and sheets and limbs flying. Sherlock barley got his breath back before Greg was on him, hands in his hair where John's had been not seconds ago, kissing his lips, curling his tongue inside his mouth. Sherlock reciprocated, taking Greg's tongue into his mouth and sucking on it, moaning deep in his throat.

At the other end, John undid the zip to Sherlock's sinfully tight trousers and slid them down his long long legs. Sherlock's hard cock sprang free and John grinned. 

Sherlock, naked and hard and wanting. Who would have ever thought it?

Greg began to undo Sherlocks shirt with one deft hand while kissing and biting at Sherlocks throat and neck and curling his tongue into Sherlocks ear. Sherlock moaned again, loudly, and poor Mycroft echoed it.

And then John took Sherlocks cock into his mouth.

"John!!!" Sherlock struggled but Greg scrambled quickly, getting both Sherlocks skinny wrists in one hand petting his hair with the other, in a soothing way.

"Shh Sherlock, let him suck you. He is so very good it this and he wants to. So much!" He whispered, and the faux sleaziness of those words, the strength of Greg's grip, those pats, that whisper, made John's mouth on his cock hotter and much more welcome.

"Uh, God, his tongue!" Sherlock cried.

"BROTHER......SHERLOCK!" Mycroft begged. "PLEASE, TELL ME!"

Poor Mycroft sounded so desperate and flustered in himself that this made Sherlock feel dirtier and sexier.

"Wet...so wet and hot..." Sherlock groaned and John figured he was just deducing. He had no idea he was describing it for his own brother in his ear. 

Sherlock arched into John's mouth, and Greg took the chance to plant kisses on Sherlocks chest, which was heaving beneath him.

"Can you see? Oh my God!" Sherlock moaned to his brother, his hips starting to move on their own, sliding his rock hard cock into John's mouth.

"I CAN SEE SHERLOCK. IT IS SO....PRETTY..."

"I see him Sherlock." Greg also answered, thinking Sherlock was talking to him. "His lips all around your cock, shiny as it slides into him, his mouth stretched so wide, his eyes closed to taste you better...It's so pretty." 

Sherlock moaned in lust as Greg echoed the words Mycroft had just said. He could now imagine what a debauched dirty boy he looked like, and got off on that. As usual.

Greg began to suck on Sherlock's nipples, making them puffy and slick with spit, hardening as Greg blew a little air across them and then used the tip of his tongue to lap at the very tip where most of the nerves were. At the same time John took Sherlock's balls in his hand and rolled them.

Sherlock gasped and writhed, and then Greg said:

"Fuck his face Sherlock..."

Sherlock barked a moan, curled up and began to fuck John's throat. John choked and gagged and hummed, loving every minute of it, using his throat and tongue to lap and suck and bring Sherlock so close to the edge so very very quickly.

"Jesus, John, you should see it from here..." Greg moaned, easing his own cock from his jeans and molesting his hardness. "Christ John, Christ!!" 

His brother's broken moans in Sherlocks ear and the curt description by Greg, the fact that he, Sherlock, was held between these magnificent men, the sole focus of their filthy attention, wet, hot, mouth on him, Greg setting up a stuccato next to him, still sucking his nipples and holding him down one handed....

Sherlock almost screamed as he twitched, and jerked and came from deep in his balls, pumping load after load down John Watson's throat. He was only very vaguely aware of Mycroft whimpering in his ear and Greg's mouth on his throat as they both came, saying his name like a prayer.

"Oh Sherlock...Sherlock..."

Finally done, Sherlock flopped to the bed, spent and loose as a noodle. He panted, his eyes half closed, only just aware that John, on his knees at the side of the bed, was jerking himself off with little gasps and moans. He came quite quickly, whimpering, and fell back against the bed when he was done.

There was a silence and then John said.

"Who's up for round two?"

#


End file.
